


The Possession of Isra Wright

by bergamots



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, shit goes down in ishval, welcome to ishvallan language 101
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10059740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bergamots/pseuds/bergamots
Summary: The rebuilding Ishvallan community is rocked by the uncovering of an exorcism gone horribly wrong, resulting in the death of a young woman at the hands of her own family. General Roy Mustang and his team suddenly find themselves embroiled at the centre of a military scandal that threatens to not only undo their three years of hard work, but also the military itself.





	1. Lāeshembha I

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about as I was researching into desert inhabitations, much like Ishval would’ve been before the civil war and what basically started as ponderings about the sorts of festivals they would celebrate and how Ishvalla was intertwined into their lives ended up as this.
> 
> The Possession of Isra Wright draws from my own understandings of a minority group that has suffered what is fundamentally both a literal and cultural genocide and then their forced integration into the ‘mainstream society’, rather than on the concept of possession itself. It is not my intention to try and glorify what are sometimes extremely sacred or harrowing experiences for many belief systems (or, in some cases, misunderstood mental illnesses), but rather use it as a catalyst to explore and understand other underlying issues in Amestris and Ishval. If you’ve seen the The Exorcism of Emily Rose, you’ll notice I’ve drawn a lot of my inspiration from there.
> 
> This is a story about dealing with the aftermath – but first I’ve got to introduce you to my version of Ishval. Have fun kiddies!
> 
> Warnings: language, sexual situations and violence.

**CHAPTER ONE, _Malkhā_ River Bank. Late summer, 1918.**

* * *

 

There was hardly a breeze today – the heat was almost stifling, oppressive, but so so _so_ dry. Drought season in Ishval was as harsh as ever.

However, Captain Riza Hawkeye noted, this was not without its benefits. Like today, for example. It was _Lāeshembha_ today, the last day of the drought. Rain was imminent – the _ahsa_ flowers had suddenly began to sprout, and the _yālahe_ herons had been spotted by _Sakhesā_ – the decimated, but altogether still holy mountain. A sandstorm was on the horizon too, Riza noted a little uneasily – a true harbinger of the desperately-needed rain, but it could be devastating to the only half-completed buildings in the _Kanān_ district. Colonel Miles had assured her that the rest of the preparations would be completed before the proper celebrations were in full swing but she knew as soon at the goat’s horn sounded to begin the celebrations, preparations would be the last thing on anybody’s mind. She would need to talk to the General about that – too often now corners were being cut or mistakes were being made in light of new achievements and accomplishments.

However, possibly the best benefit to _Lāeshembha_ was the fact that the General was also participating in it today – it was traditionally a _manly_ thing to do, after all, but everyone had been invited to participate if they wanted to. It was not like he had any choice in the matter, however – everybody (jokingly) loved to point out how they could do his job much better than he could, and _Lāeshembha_ was one of the few times the man could prove himself on the Ishvallan’s terms.

It also helped that the General was a practical man – though there were a few young men milling around the edge of the _Malkhā_ river-turned-lake with loose shirts on, but most, including the General had opted to simply wear loose cotton pants, sans shirt. This year would most likely be their biggest yet – there were at least a thousand people, mostly men, milling around the edges of the artificial lake, each holding their own wooden net. The excitement in the air was palpable – with each successive year that _Lāeshembha_ was held, the competition increased to catch the fish – and with it, the honour that one earned because of it.

Yes, Riza was more than comfortable perched up on the bank of the _Malkhā_ , watching the almost-chaos below her, well-shaded from the brutal heat of the afternoon sun by the enormous ironwood’s that dotted the length of the restored river-turned-temporary-lake.

“Y’know, I would say that you’re going red because of the heat, but we’d both know I’d be lying, right?” Rebecca Catalina snarked as she sat down next to Riza on the sparse ground, handing her a bottle of water. “You have a terrible poker face when it comes to your _beloved_ commanding officer.”

Riza accepted the bottle, and sighed deeply. “My poker face is fine, thank you very much,” she shot back. “At least I’m trying to be subtle about it-”

Rebecca elbowed her in the side. “Oi! I am _totally_ subtle, Miss I’m-Wet-For-Sparkypants-”

“You are the _worst-_ ”

“I bet you two are gonna be all _sneaky_ later too, finding some shady corner where you shove your hand down his-”

Riza tackled the woman down onto the ground, desperately trying to cover her mouth to no avail. Rebecca simply laughed, fighting off the attack with the experience of someone who had done this many times before.

“-and then all we’ll hear is _oh Riza, yes, do it aga-_ ”

“SHUT _UP_ REBECCA!” Riza shrieked, scandalised, trying to stifle her own laughter as they rolled around on the bank. “I swear on the ground I stand on that I _will_ kill you if you don’t shut-”

Rebecca threw her head back onto the ground, laughing far too much to fight back anymore. “You two are adorable,” she managed between gasps, tears sliding down her face. “And Havoc said that this trip would be boring.”

Riza frowned, flicking her harshly on the shoulder. “It’s not funny,” she hissed, glancing around to see who had noticed the commotion – barely anybody. Everyone seemed too distracted to notice the two of them, high up on the bank. The crowd at the edges of the _Malkhā_ was the main focus – a sea of white hair dotted with blondes, reds, browns and blacks.

Rebecca sighed as she sat up, wiping her tears away. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not funny – it’s fucking hilarious how you two inch around each other like something out of a Walter and Black book.”

“Remind me why I invited you again?”

Rebecca grinned wolfishly, pulling her dark curls into a low bun. “Because there are tons of half-naked men here and you need to be distracted or you’ll make terrible decisions tonight? Not that it’ll stop you though. So just the half-naked men, really.”

Riza rolled her eyes, taking a drink of water from the bottle that Rebecca had given her. “You are incorrigible,” she muttered, scanning the horizon with unease once more. “Are you taking the train back today or will you stay the night?”

Rebecca hummed. “I don’t know. What’s the weather looking like?”

“Not good. Clean up tomorrow is going to be a bitch. Even if you left tonight I’m not sure you’d outrun it.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Rebecca said, standing up and stretching her arms out wide. “You’re going to need all the help you can get, and technically I’m off work until next week anyway.” She winked at Riza. “Besides, there’s plenty of strapping young men that will be desperate for fresh meat tonight – if you don’t get lucky, at least you can live vicariously through me.”

Riza grinned, crossing her legs and shifting the _janhe_ on her shoulders. Though the military uniforms were only required during work hours (and nobody was stupid enough to wear them a second longer) and even though the ones for the Ishvallan summer were made of a lighter wool blend, they were still suffocating at the best of times. Casual Ishvallan wear had become the norm for almost all the long-time serving military branch – Riza included. Heatstroke was the most common ailment in Aledia – alongside dehydration. At this point in the summer, water wasn’t enough to keep a person healthy; they also had to rely on drinks with added electrolytes and minerals. The traditional Ishvallan diet didn’t do a bad job itself – but many of the soldiers found the heat of the food too much. Contests over how much _chāna_ they could eat without feeling ill were common – and a practice that caused both her and Roy a lot of consternation.

 _At least it was a friendly competition_ , Riza thought as she adjusted her legs, wincing a little at the sudden pins and needles spreading through her calves. By her estimates, today’s high would be at _least_ thirty-four degrees – not the worst she had endured, but undoubtedly some people would feel the effects of the blazing sun tomorrow. Taking a quick swig of water, Riza looked out to the still waters of the _Malkhā._ The incoming rains would carve a new path for the river, and provide relief to the region that was starting to show signs of strain. The population of Aledia was growing every month, and with them, straining what few resources they had. At least the rain would lower the temperature for a while as well. Too many people were growing irritable with the relentless heat – Riza was a little ashamed to count herself amongst them.

Growing up in the East had taught her to deal with heat, of course, but she had grown up with humid, muggy heat. Ishvallan summers were as dry as a bone, sunburn was a constant stress and worry (and naturally, Riza was not a person to develop a tan of any sort – freckles, there were plenty, but her gaining a tan was like Edward gaining a foot in height). Roy, the lucky bastard, took to summer like a fish did to water. Of course he was a fine specimen to ogle anytime of the year (not that she’d tell Rebecca any more than the tidbits she’d let slip already – that woman was learning far too much, far too quickly from Madame Christmas) but the summer was a particularly wonderful time to do so – and there were opportunities upon opportunities to do so.

It was during this reflection on how to improve her ‘Rebecca filter’ that she caught his eyes down on the bank. Rebecca would pin it down to them being ‘star-crossed lovers’, but in reality there was often very little times where one would not be checking on the other – even more so after the events of the Promised Day. More than once that day they had been so close to losing one another – and as the saying went, hindsight truly was twenty-twenty. Riza remembered only too clearly the abject terror she felt as the nurses had pulled her away from Roy to do proper surgery on her wounds. She still had nightmares about that moment.

She knew Roy did too.

However, restoring Ishval took up more than enough head space between the two of them. Having control over an entire district of the country was wonderful, Riza was humble enough to admit that, but it came with its own set of dangers. How they ran Ishval could only be done because Führer Grumman had such trust in the General’s vision – and with it, their own culture had developed on how rules and policies were enforced.

There were many open secrets in Ishval. Military regulations fell to the side in favour of other, more unorthodox methods of dealing with rule-breakers and breaches of confidence. The Ishval unit was almost a separate faction to the Amestrian – much like how Briggs was to their icy commander. Riza suspected this was a deliberate choice – a group bound together by mutual experiences and a common goal were much easier to inspire loyalty than soldiers who were shifted around to suit numbers more than actually do any legitimate work.

It was this type of loyalty and hand-selection of troops that enabled so many… _indiscretions_ of a personal nature to float under the radar – only when the person’s involved became ridiculously overt would they be separated and questioned duly – and never before.

The rumour mill never bothered with her and Roy. There was no need to. Rebecca had snidely called her the ‘Queen Bee’ of Ishval more than once – and it was true, to an extent. Her relationship with him was not at _all_ professional on far too many levels to count – but they were professional when it came to their jobs. Their district wouldn’t allow it otherwise. One misstep, one conflict not attended to would tear down all they had worked hard to gain – and that was the constant fear plaguing the back of their minds.

However, on days like these, decorum from the Ishval unit went out the window – and so did the rules. This was why Riza was sitting on the top of a river-cum-lake bank, wearing a sundress and a patterned _janhe_ and unabashedly staring at her superior officer’s abs – who, as it happened, was staring back at her, a smile blooming on his face and eyes promising that he’d catch at least one fish: or die of mortification otherwise.

“Are you finished having weird eye sex yet?” Rebecca asked, plopping herself back down, stifling a snigger. Riza glanced at her. “Have you finished being a bitch that won’t get any _mekhlo_ at this rate?” she shot back.

Rebecca held up her hands in apology. “Yes, okay, calm down already. I think the High Cleric dude is gonna blow the magic goat horn.”

Riza threw Rebecca a disproving look, before sitting up a little straighter. The people milling by the waterside had stopped talking to one another – all were looking to the water, muscles tense, wooden nets held high. High Cleric Basir had walked out onto a rock, carrying the ceremonial goat horn that had been found buried in the rubble remains of an _Ahmanhe_ , the traditional places of worship for Ishvalla. All that could be heard were the lapping of the water on the stones and a lone _yālahe_ circling above, occasionally calling out in a mournful cry at being ousted from its water source temporarily.

Basir took a deep breath and then placed the horn against his mouth, and a low, solemn tone came out – and all hell broke loose on the edges of the water. A roar rose from the crowd gathered as they all began running into the water as fast as they could manage – in a matter of seconds the lake was flooded with a frantic frenzy of limbs and voices and nets and splashing water – Riza immediately lost track of where the General was in the chaos. It was a few minutes of this before the first men began to emerge victorious from the crowd in the lake, hands and mouths full of fish, some still wriggling around. It didn’t take long for Roy to emerge out of the crowd either holding up his fish-grasping hands in success.

“ARE YOU PROUD OF ME _NOW_ CAPTAIN?” He hollered up to her, looking far too pleased with himself. “TURNS OUT I _CAN_ FEND FOR MYSELF WHEN THE NEED ARISES!” The crowd around him laughed, looking up to where she and Rebecca were sitting, Rebecca cackling madly. “Hell of a _catch_ , wouldn’t you say?” she said between laughs. Riza snorted, trying to ignore the curling warmth low in her gut.

“That is an awful pun, Rebecca,” she replied, a smile growing on her face as Roy made his way up the bank where they were sitting. “Go find Havoc and see if he’ll spare you a fish.”

Rebecca _harrumphed_ at that, before standing up slowly. “General!” she called out. “Your treasured Captain is telling me you won’t have any fish for me. How could you break my heart in such a cruel way?”

“My reputation obviously precedes me,” he called back, making his way through the crowds that were beginning to emerge as more and more people came out of the lake – some successful, many not.

“Cad!” she retorted, pouting and putting her hands on her hips. “Did Havoc fare any better?”

“I think he got four, if the crowd surrounding him is any indication,” he replied, glancing back at the growing horde surrounding the young man down at the banks of the _Malkhā_. “You better run quickly if you want some fish from him.”

A look of determination stole across Rebecca’s face. “I’ll see you two at the party!” she yelled back, quickly jogging down to the large gathering by the now empty lake.

Roy turned back to where Riza was sitting. “Where do I put my hard-earned labours?” he asked, sitting down on the towel next to her, sending water droplets flying as he shook his head vigorously.

“I’ve got an ice box here – did you kill them already?” Riza asked, dragging the wooden box from where she had been keeping it in the shade.

“Nah, not yet. You got a knife?”

She passed him one as well as chopping board – some people liked to bash the heads against the rocks by the river’s edge but that was far too cruel in her opinion. Worse were the ones already skewering them, ready for the waiting campfires at the town square. Roy made quick work of gutting and filleting the fish.

“Where’re the dogs? I was going to give them the guts.”

“It’s too hot for them out here – you know that as well as I do – and Eliza was giving me that look that you give me when you’re going to stir shit up. She takes after you a worrying amount.”

“So she should,” he replied primly, placing the filleted fish into the ice box and making a small alcove in the corner of the ice for the guts to keep. “She’s a wonderful dog who perfectly emulates what it means to be a Mustang-”

“Meaning she sleeps all over the furniture and constantly eats food she _knows_ isn’t for her?” Riza interrupted, taking the ice box from him and began to wrap it back up in cloth. “You indulge her.”

“She is a wonderful and _loyal_ friend and I will not let you insult her-”

“She is a _dog_ , Roy, I’m sure she won’t kill her to have a bit more training than ‘ _piss here please, if you will’-_ ”

“General.”

Their bickering stopped as Samir stood before them, in his customary robes and ceremonial sash. The man was still as intimidating as ever, even with the faded scar, Riza thought, before standing alongside Roy to greet the man properly.

“Samir! I didn’t see you in the group – you didn’t participate this year?” Roy asked, offering his hand. They shook hands, briefly, before Samir replied.

“Unfortunately not. I was given the task of watching over the _mekhlo_ barrels this year – not an entirely terrible job to be given during _Lāeshembha_. I suppose you were successful once more?” He asked, humour in his tone.

“Naturally,” Roy replied, a proud smirk growing on his face. “Not as good as Havoc or Karir – but I just need to catch at least one fish so you all don’t lose hope in me.”

Samir snorted. “Best not let others know you were being easy on them. They may wish to challenge you properly next year.” He turned to Riza. “Colonel Miles instructed me to tell you that the preparations in the _Kanān_ district have been done. The storm tonight will not ruin the progress we have made this week.”

Riza smiled warmly. “Thank you, Samir. Will you and Colonel Miles be joining us at the _Ahmanhe_ tonight for the dinner?”

Samir nodded. “As soon as we shift the _mekhlo_ to the cellars we will join you. Hopefully the young ones will give up this year in their quest to get drunk.”

She laughed, as did Roy. “Unlikely,” he replied, “but there’s hope yet. We better go now, anyway,” he continued, nodding to Samir. “There are two dogs at home that are going to be very disappointed if we don’t bring them the fruits of my labour.”

Samir laughed. “They’re more demanding than most of the _ammonla_ around here.”

“You’re probably right there,” Roy replied. “But I imagine that the _ishmonla_ will be acting far worse tonight.”

Samir nodded sagely. “I hope not to count you two amongst them,” he said. “I will let you go now. _Ishvalla dhāmo_.”

“ _Ishvalla dhāmo,_ ” they replied in unison, watching as the hordes of people crowded around him, all jabbering away in various fluencies and cadences of Ishvallan.


	2. Lāeshembha II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!!!!!! this fic will run on a much slower schedule compared to my other fics just bc i have to spend a lot of time making sure i haven't gotten anything wrong in regards to language, culture or general timelines haha. if u notice something that looks wrong or doesn't make sense pls let me know!!! this fic (and the three separate dictionaries i have) are a labour of love for me and i wanna make sure that i'm showing y'all my absolute best.
> 
> eliza (as mentioned in this chapter and a little in the previous) is the shiba inu we saw in chapter 108. i like to think she was given to roy and he dotes on her obnoxiously.
> 
> if it wasn't made obvious before, samir is our lovable local hobo scar (but now with cool clothes and an important job).

**CHAPTER TWO, Aledia. Late summer, 1918.**

* * *

 

Roy turned to Riza, and nodded his head back towards Aledia. “We should probably get going,” he said, grabbing the towel and water bottle from the sandy bank and scrubbed his still-dripping hair with the towel quickly. “I want to have a shower before dinner tonight.”

“The water was not refreshing enough for you?” she teased, kneeling down to wrap up the used knife and chopping board up in cloth.

Roy laughed. “If there weren’t another five hundred sweaty guys around me, then perhaps.”

Riza stood up, arms cradling the ice box and wrapped utensils carefully. “Shall we?” she asked, nodding towards the exiting crowd of people.

Roy nodded. “I saw you tackle Rebecca before,” he said carefully, as they followed the large group going back to the town centre. “What was that about?”

Riza groaned and her shoulders slumped. “She was being nosy. I swear she’s becoming more like your mother every time I see her.”

Roy held a still-bloody hand to his chest in mocking incredulity. “My mother is a wonderful influence on people. Look at how I turned out!”

Riza shook her head in disbelief, opting to not reply. They walked in companionable silence for a while, watching the young children running through the crowd, yelling to one another in a mixture of Ishvallan and the common tongue. It was becoming an increasingly common sight now, and though many non-Ishvallan Amestrian’s didn’t seem to understand the importance of reviving a nearly dead language, almost everyone stationed and living here could speak it to some degree – Riza had a much better grasp on the language than he did, but she had always had the advantage when it came to patterns and memorising words. That, mixed with her studies of the Xingese dialect that the traders used and her schooling knowledge of Auregean and Cretan meant she was becoming quite the polyglot.

“Samir seemed to be in good spirits today,” Roy said quietly, eyes on the horizon that was becoming increasingly redder with each passing moment. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like this since _Lāeshembha_ last year.”

Riza nodded. “Last year didn’t bring the rains we needed – but I’ve no doubt this sandstorm-” she gestured to the oncoming storm “-will be bringing a lot of rain. The _Malkhā_ won’t be a lake for much longer.”

“Don’t forget that Samir laughed,” he replied. “That should probably be an omen for rain in itself.”

Riza laughed. “I’ll let Basir know it’s a recommendation for the Elder’s to consider.”

They had reached the centre of Aledia now, and the smell of burning incense was becoming stronger and _nekhlo_ smoke was rising lazily into the sky. Strains of melody and singing could be heard and the front of the main _Ahmanhe_ had been converted into stall upon stall of traditional food and drink. Though lunch had only been a few hours ago, Riza felt her stomach grumble in anticipation. Even in the blazing heat, one could not get enough of the various meats and breads that came out for festival celebrations – particularly _kafirghī_ – a dish consisting of flatbread, filled with goat’s cheese and spices and cured goat meat. It was only available during the summer season due to the conditions needed for curing the meat, and she looked forward to it every year.

A hand on her forearm made her pause. “Sir?” she asked, eyes meeting his. He inclined his head towards the apartment building where most of the higher-ranking military were based. “Shall we?” he commented. “I don’t know about you, but I really need a shower right now and I left my keys back home.”

Riza snorted. “How convenient that I appear to have a set with me,” she remarked dryly, following him away from the dispersing crowd towards the building.

“Because I can always put my trust in you to remember what I don’t,” he countered, taking the ice box and wrapped utensils out of her arms as they neared the entrance. “We just make such a wonderful team!”

Riza sighed, rummaging around in her pocket for her set of keys. “I was hoping to grab some of Nazahah’s _kafirghī_ before she sells out,” she muttered, opening the door with a little more force than strictly necessary. “You know she does the best out of anyone here, and-”

“The ones you made last year were really good though,” Roy interrupted, following her into the foyer area and jerking his head to his left side. “And I don’t think Nazahah will sell out without you buying at least fifteen of the _bhu’jahle_ ones. I think she makes extra just for you.”

She turned to retort but instead frowned at his erratic behaviour. “Water in your ears?”

He nodded, before jerking his head rather violently to the other side. “I had to dive for the second fish. He got through my net.”

“Sounds like someone should’ve spent more time on his net rather than monitoring the last _chāna_ contest,” she muttered under her breath, closing the main door behind them. She made her way to the stairs, quickly climbing two at a time. “The water didn’t look too muddy this year though,” she called back, finding the key for his apartment swiftly.

“Reminded me a bit of the barracks during training,” he replied, scrunching up his face. “The smell that is somehow terribly fresh but stale at the same time? I never thought I’d have to deal with it again.”

Riza laughed softly, and unlocked the door to his apartment. “I believe that may just be a consequence of being male,” she replied teasingly. “I don’t have any bad memories of how the barracks smelled.”

“Lucky for some,” he muttered, moving to the kitchen. He motioned to the ice box he was holding. “Do you want these in the fridge or the freezer?”

“Freezer please,” she replied, following him into the small space. “I doubt I’ll have any room for food after tonight. Could you put those into the sink?” she passed him the wrapped knife and board. “I’ll deal with them tomorrow.”

“Sure. Where are Hayate and Eliza?”

“Probably where we left them on the bed,” Riza answered, grabbing the water jug from the fridge and sitting down at the small kitchen table, covered in manila files and paperwork. She grabbed the glass she had used at breakfast this morning and filled it up. “It will be too hot for them right now. Tonight – we should take them to dinner, the exercise will do them some good. Hana’s been asking after them as well.”

“How is she?” Roy asked, wrapping the filleted fish in waxed paper and tying it off with string. “I haven’t seen much of her of late.”

“She’s good,” Riza said, pausing to take a large drink of water, wincing a little at the sudden not-burning sensation on her teeth. “That library excavation is taking more time than she expected, I think. A lot of the scrolls are apparently quite delicate.”

“How is she going with the translation? I know Samir was going to help her, because the language was similar to the chants and prayers-”

“I doubt she’s even at that stage yet Roy,” Riza said gently. “Even if they had one scroll that was in good condition the shift from the environment it was in to another would be more than enough to damage them. I know Ishval’s not the most humid place on earth but-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he groused, holding his hands up in apology. Placing the wrapped fish in the freezer, he put the lid back on the ice box and placed it under the sink. “Remind me to give the remains of the fish to Hayate and Eliza before we leave – it should stop them trying to nick food at dinner tonight.”

“You mean it’ll stop Hayate. I swear Eliza has hollow legs.”

Roy grinned, sitting down in the chair opposite her and wiped his once again sweaty brow on the towel still slung around his shoulders. “What’s the time now?”

She checked her watch. “It’s just past four o’clock. If you take a shower now I’ll be able to have one as well after you and we’ll still make time for dinner.”

“Or we could share the shower and save the water?” he asked, eyebrows waggling. “You know you want to.”

Riza tried not to let the smile on her face grow. “You’re terrible,” she chided, getting up and putting the jug back in the fridge. She heard the scraping of his chair as he stood up and followed her, the heat from his body tangible as he closed the distance between them.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” he asked, strong, warm hands resting on her hips, thumbs drawing lazy patterns on her waist. She made to bat his hands away, but he was too quick – now she stood boxed into the corner of the kitchen, her hands held down firmly by his own. Riza laughed, a little embarrassed. “Rebecca said that my poker face in regards to you was awful today,” she said quietly, brown eyes meeting his dark ones. “She said that I was ‘ _wet for Mr. Sparkypants_ ’-”

“Are you?”

She took a moment to think, chewing her bottom lip between her teeth – she heard a strangled noise come from deep within his chest and grinned.

“I think I would be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she breathed, still smiling as his lips crashed onto hers. It was not a harsh kiss, nor was it overly tender. It was pressure, the _good_ kind, and heat – so much heat. Roy was a man much like his alchemy that defined him – warmth and burning all rolled into one, a delectable frenzy and dichotomy that made her weak at the knees as he shifted even _closer_ – hands loosening their grip on her own in favour of trailing up her body, coiling and threading through her hair with such deliberateness and holding her _just so_.

It had been weeks since they had let themselves act like this – weeks filled with late nights of paperwork and awful reconstituted coffee, nights that ended in glances and nods and the _unfair_ acceptance that this was how it was, how it had to be, and how it would be for many moons to come. As she snaked her arms up around his neck to keep him close, she could sense the niggling feeling that what they were doing was wrong (and it was _very very very_ wrong, if anybody ever actually saw them they would be over and done for and all their work would crumble into dust) begin to slip away in favour of the returning warm curling feeling, low and _deep_ in her gut, growing with each passing second of just-right pressure, warm breath and bitten lips. A sigh escaped her as he shifted towards her jaw, savouring in the soft bites that would not mark for long, as his hands lessened their grip on her head and began to stroke the edge between her neck and scalp, causing her body to be overwhelmed with pleasurable shivers. After a while it became more ticklish than enjoyable, and she pulled back from him, giggling and swatting his hands away as best she could.

He cradled her head then, thumbs running over cheekbones and pushing back wisps of hair that had escaped her hair tie, before kissing her again, softly, and intimately this time. Far too often they would have no choice but to be harried and quick; moments filled with desperate touches rather than measured caresses. Far too frequently nowadays there was not even time to spend together as friends, let alone as lovers – and though they both understood complicitly that Ishval was and would always be their number one priority – today was a time when their responsibilities could fall to the wayside in favour of celebrating with and as the common people.

Roy kissed her once more, tenderly before gathering her up into his arms and pressing his lips to the spot between her neck and shoulder. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled into her skin, voice cracking as his hands traced hidden lines and marks underneath her clothing. “This season has been hell.”

Riza exhaled shakily, fingers stroking his damp hair gently. “We survived it though,” she murmured back softly. “We always do. The rain will come and we can rest until autumn arrives.”

He laughed unsteadily at that, arms growing even tighter around her. It was a familiar ache – never quite enough to makes up for the minutes and months and moments lost between them – but it would have to be enough for the time being.

Roy pulled back from her after a while, and she smiled warmly up at him as she pushed his hair out of his eyes. “You deserve a break,” she said quietly, fingers trailing down his jaw. “Even Samir had noticed how hard you were working.”

He caught her hand with his own and held it close to his jaw, kissing the middle of her palm softly. “Is it enough?” he asked, hand tightly gripping hers. “I see how much we’ve done, but there is still _so much_ left to do and-”

She interrupted him with another kiss, her feet on tip-toes as she strained to meet his height. “It will have to be enough,” she scolded him lightly; twining her fingers with his and pulling him close. “This is a _team effort_ and I will not have you work yourself ‘till your death when others are there to support you.” He nodded slowly at this, and exhaled unevenly.

“Thank you,” he said simply, quietly, and they stood there for a while, hands clasped and breathing slowly, revelling in the few moments when _General_ and _Captain_ fell to the wayside in favour of truer names.

Riza could practically feel the edges of his mouth upturn into a no doubt shit-eating grin before he spoke. “Still keen on that shower then?” he asked brazenly, melancholic mood all but forgotten as his thumbs began to stroke over the backs of her hands. She turned to face him properly, smiling sweetly up at him.

“I would love to,” she began, trying her best not to snicker at the excessively confident look on his face. “But I’m afraid there’s a problem…”

Roy frowned. “Problem?”

“Yeah.” She squeezed his hands, before pulling away to his confusion. “You absolutely stink of fish, _honey boo_.” She kissed him on the cheek swiftly before ducking out from under his arm. “Go and have a shower and I might change my mind.”

Roy hung his head in defeat, before nodding and wandering in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll hold you to that,” he called, before shutting the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lāeshembha – fishing festival that occurs at the end of the drought season.  
> Malkhā – the main river that runs from the mountain ranges that separate modern-day Ishval from Amestris.  
> Ahmanhe – place of worship for Ishvalla.  
> Nekhlo – type of slow growing tree indigenous to the Ishvallan region – when treated correctly, burns with a very pungent aroma. Often used for festivals, or to bring peoples’ attention. The bark can be scraped off and prepared to make mekhlo (which is where the name comes from for the alcohol).  
> Kafirghī – a flatbread that is stuffed with herbs, goat cheese and cured meat.  
> Bhu’jahle – a method of preparing goat’s milk to produce a cheese that is very soft and creamy.  
> Chāna – traditional Ishvallan stew, made with goat and root vegetables. Typically a spicy dish.


	3. Lāeshembha III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while - sorry for the delay <3

**CHAPTER THREE, Aledia. Late summer, 1918.**

* * *

 

It was a little after five before he finished in the bathroom – Roy, for all his gripes about water – was a terrible hogger of the shower and so by the time Riza had finished with her shower it was nearly time to go anyway. She was drying her hair roughly with a towel when she heard the scratching of claws and low whining at the bathroom door – Eliza had obviously woken up, no doubt with Hayate in tow.

“Roy!” she called out. “Eliza’s up!”

“Guess who caught dinner?” she heard sung from the lounge, and there was a sudden scampering of feet. She laughed quietly, before reaching for the tub of sunscreen on the shelf. Riza both loved and hated the summer season with equal passion – one could _always_ rely on the weather in Ishval to be ridiculously sunny, and the days were long, but sunburn was a constant stress for her and though Roy loved drawing stupid constellations between her freckles the less damage the sun did to her the better. In their first year based at Aledia proper (once construction had been completed) there had been a day where she had forgotten to reapply the lotion – that evening having a sick mixture of fascination and revulsion at the blisters that had swelled up on her shoulders.  Though they healed relatively quickly – Riza blessed the abundant aloe vera plants that grew well and were plentiful in the desert climate – it had been a cautionary tale in remembering to cover up: hence, there was rarely a day here where she would not slather on the lotion and wear a _janhe_ where possible.

She left the bathroom carrying the container, and strolled down to the lounge, where Roy was sprawled out on the couch, Eliza licking his face something awful and Hayate watching with interest, tail thumping heavily on the floor. She sighed in disappointment and sat down cross legged by the coffee table, placing the sunscreen on top of a large stack of files.

“That is disgusting.”

Roy turned his face to see her, and stalled Eliza’s frantic tongue with a hand. “You just wish it were you,” he replied snidely, fingers combing through the dog’s plush fur. Riza snorted and unscrewed the lid of the sunscreen.

“My heart aches to be near yours whenever we are apart, _dearly_ _beloved_ ,” she deadpanned, smoothing the lotion over her arms. “I’m guessing you already fed them the leftovers?”

“Yeah, Hayate ate them up like nobody’s business. Eliza didn’t want any.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem like her.”

Roy shrugged, dropping a kiss on the Eliza’s muzzle. “They weren’t the healthiest looking fish – and she probably knows she’ll get better food at the festival anyway. _Such a clever girl!_ ” he cooed, scratching her ears. Eliza yipped happily.

Riza smiled at the two, rubbing some of the lotion behind her ears. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, rubbing excess lotion from her hands onto her pants and stood up, scratching Hayate’s head.

“Yeah, whenever you want to go,” Roy replied absentmindedly. “I heard there may be fireworks tonight.”

Riza’s head shot up. “Really?” she asked, fingers paused on Hayate’s head. “Where did you hear that from?”

“Havoc. I think he may have put in a few requisitions while we weren’t looking.”

Riza snickered. “Sounds like something he’d do. Perhaps we shouldn’t bring the dogs, then.”

Roy made a discontented noise. “Didn’t think about that,” he grumbled, hands stalling on Eliza’s ears for a moment. “But they haven’t been out today – they need the fresh air more than we do...”

Riza chewed on her lip in thought. “I could run them back before the fireworks begin – do you know when they’re going to start?”

He shook his head, and shifted on the couch, sitting upright and moved Eliza to the ground, ignoring the little dog’s whines and frantic attempts to jump back up onto her owner. “Let me go makes some calls and I’ll find out when this is happening.” He stood up, stretched, before moving towards the hallway. Eliza trotted after him, tail wagging furiously.

Hayate huffed, licking Riza’s wrist for attention. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been ignoring you, haven’t I?” The dog barked in response, and she laughed. “C’mon,” she said, bending down to pick up the container of sunscreen. “Let’s go give you a brush before you get all dirty again.”

* * *

The air was a little cooler by the time they actually stepped out of their apartment building, Hayate and Eliza barking happily at each other and frantically trying to sniff everything they possibly could that was in reach. The sounds and smells of the festival were already present in the air, and the large bonfire in the centre of the town square was a reflection of the now fiery sky – all manner of reds, yellows and oranges were striping and blooming across the sky as the sun lazily made the last leg of its journey towards the clear horizon. Riza turned her head to look at the other half of the sky – the sandstorm was looming even closer now, growing darker in colour as the setting sun turned the normally golden sand all shades of burgundies and browns. Roy caught her line of sight, and a worried look crossed his face.

“How long did Basir say it would take to get here?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“It’s not due to hit Aledia until early tomorrow morning,” she replied. “But I’ve certainly never seen one this big before – and certainly not that far away.”

“At what point do you think it stops being a good omen?” he asked jokingly, “I don’t even think the tanks we’ve brought in will be able to hold all the water that’ll be coming…”

“There’s that underground bore too, don’t forget,” Riza replied. “Hahm has one of the catchments leading into it: with the amount of water on the way it should soften and resettle the clay – and then we can celebrate a second water source.”

 “Didn’t he also say there was a chance that the clay could just slip through instead of plugging up?” He retorted as they neared the front of the _Ahmanhe_. “All that water could just slip through the cracks-”

“He’s done as much testing as he can with what little resources we could offer him,” Riza countered firmly, waving at a few passers-by as the sounds and smell of _Lāeshembha_ grew louder with each passing step. “It won’t be on our heads if it doesn’t follow through – but Samir agreed it was worth a shot. He’s hardly one to jump to conclusions.”

Roy frowned. “I’ll be having words with him if it doesn’t work,” he said carefully, eyes darting around at the crowds of people filling up in the town square. “We cannot afford to waste what is freely given to us.”

“I know,” Riza soothed. “I doubt you will be the last, either.”

The _Ahmanhe_ appeared before them, as the sights and sounds of _Lāeshembha_ surrounded them fully. The air was electric – at every turn there was a food stall, people in conversations that were equal parts Ishvallan and Amestrian. Children scampered around the groups of adults, shrieking with laughter as they played a variation of tag.

“Riza!”

A familiar voice had Riza twisting her head up to the steps of the _Ahmanhe_. “Hana! _Ishvakale!_ ” she exclaimed. Turning quickly to Roy she flashed him a brilliant smile. “I’ll see you later – take care of Hayate for me, okay?” she said quickly, winking, before dropping the leather lead into his hand and darting up the steps, ducking from various groups until she met the petite woman at the top, almost tackling her with a firm embrace.  The two parted, mouths moving at the speed of light as Hana tugged the Captain back towards the main hall of the _Ahmanhe_ , only looking back to wave at Roy quickly before they disappeared into the building. _Some things never change_ , Roy thought as Hayate pulled on his lead, keen to follow his owner.

“C’mon,” he said to the two dogs. “Let’s go find somebody who’ll pay attention to you two.” He began making his way through the growing crowd, occasionally stopping to talk with both citizens and soldiers alike, all in various stages of sobriety – obviously the matured _mekhlo_ barrels had already been broken open, judging by the lack of consideration for rank. Roy would never admit it publicly, but he was beyond pleased that these people felt comfortable enough to talk to him as equals, rather than as a superior officer, or a member of the military. It was a testament to his hard work – as well of that of his team – that their ranks and histories were falling to the wayside in favour of treating their fellow countrymen as equals.

Of course, this was only true in Ishval. As soon as you left Aledia all of that was stripped away – the respect earned; the trust gained; the progress that had been made so far. It was easy to forget the rhetoric that was brewing right outside their door when it was not allowed to survive here.

Nonetheless, he could not afford to rest on his laurels now. While now they were able to celebrate more often for the successes of his outline for Ishval, the biggest hurdle facing the district was still the military – a military that was slowly, but surely shifting towards a more democratic method of operating. Sometimes Roy thought he had gotten the easy job out of all of this mess following the Promised Day – working in Ishval – compared to the likes of Führer Grumman, who had to negotiate the often treacherous waters that were national and international politics whilst simultaneously proving that Amestris would _not_ back down in the event of a foreign invasion. The updates he received from his mother were growing increasingly dire, with far-right groups gaining traction in response to the apparently sudden democratisation of the country.

 _You’d think that people would **want** to have a say in how their country is run_ , he thought grimly, guiding the dogs towards the makeshift bars that skirted the edge of the town square. _Or maybe there are those who think only the elite should have that right_. Roy was hesitant to say openly that there was a racist rhetoric growing in Amestris – but both he and Riza could see the signs a mile off, even with Chris trying to hide the worst of it in her information packets that she sent weekly. Führer Grumman would quickly skip over any discussion of the current political climate when he called Roy to see how progress was going – sometimes a little too quickly, in Roy’s opinion. There was a shift coming – a shift that perhaps the Führer did not want to address.

It didn’t matter whether he did or not. It would still happen regardless, and the country, as well as its people, would suffer for it.

Despite all of this, Ishval was still growing rapidly by the season, and while they were constructing districts as efficiently as they could, there was a limit to how hard they could push their workers without having to cut corners or push their men too far – and yet, more Ishvallan’s kept pouring in, month after month after month. Aledia was quickly becoming a haven for all sorts of people – recently a small group of chimera hybrids had asked for sanctuary, apparently having exhausted all other points of contact before they arrived.

Roy had been horrified to realise just how far the human experimentation had gone under King Bradley’s reign – and still, more and more kept crawling out of the woodwork, offering what little skills they could towards the rebuilding effort.

It was not _right_ that the military could keep ignoring the crimes they had committed – though it certainly didn’t help that practically all the records had been ‘conveniently’ burned or misplaced or lost – nor that without a steady paper trail it would border on nigh impossible to track down the scientists who had been employed to perform such work. There was also a very large possibility that they were dead already, and with them, any semblance of justice for those they had wronged.

Eliza whined nosily as they worked their way through the crowd that was steadily thinning, pulling on her leash impatiently.

“Alright, alright,” Roy groused, picking up his pace a little as she all but dragged him towards some unseen but _very important and must be investigated_ patch of dirt, Hayate patiently following her, his tongue lolling out. “I don’t know where you got your attitude from, but I’ll be sticking you in the bathroom tonight if you keep this up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Janhe – a traditional shawl for Ishvallan women, which covers the shoulders and upper arms. Comes in a variety of fabrics and patterns, typically made of cotton.
> 
> Ahmanhe – place of worship for Ishvalla.
> 
> Lāeshembha – fishing festival that occurs at the end of the drought season.
> 
> Ishvakale - informal way of greeting people, close friends and family.
> 
> Mekhlo – a type of fermented alcohol, made with the bark of the nekhlo tree, spices and the aloe vera plant. Prepared in the height of summer, it is both delicious before and after fermentation.

**Author's Note:**

> Lāeshembha – fishing festival that occurs at the end of the drought season.  
> Ahsa – a vine-like plant that grows in the cracks of buildings and the ground. The white flowers begin to blossom when the humidity reaches a certain level in the summer.  
> Yālahe – species of heron that migrate to the south to breed.  
> Sakhesā – a small mountain that is sacred to Ishvallan’s. It is said to be the place that Ishvalla once stood.  
> Kanān – a prophet of Ishvalla, born approx. 1240.  
> Malkhā – the main river that runs from the mountain ranges that separate modern-day Ishval from Amestris.   
> Janhe – a traditional shawl for Ishvallan women, which covers the shoulders and upper arms. Comes in a variety of fabrics and patterns, typically made of cotton.  
> Mekhlo – a type of fermented alcohol, made with the bark of the nekhlo tree, spices and the aloe vera plant. Prepared in the height of summer, it is both delicious before and after fermentation.  
> Aledia – name of the village being rebuilt in the Ishvallan district. Comes from the Ishvallan word aledhā, meaning moon.  
> Chāna – traditional Ishvallan stew, made with goat and root vegetables. Typically a spicy dish.  
> Ahmanhe – place of worship for Ishvalla.  
> Ammonla – informal way to talk about a child or children.  
> Ishmonnla – informal way to talk about an adult or adults.  
> Ishvalla dhāmo – (trans. Ishvalla guides [you]) a formal way to say goodbye.


End file.
